


The Bet

by bilboswaggins



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Timeline, M/M, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3710995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilboswaggins/pseuds/bilboswaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is drinking at a bar. Eggsy approaches him and asks for his number to prove a point to some friends. </p>
<p>Simple fluff, an alternate timeline where Eggsy is not affiliated with Kingsman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

After a week-long mission, Harry was finally back. He was exhausted, he was sore, but above all, he needed a drink. Pity he couldn’t be joined by Merlin or Percival or Bedivere or whomever else, but he really was in need of some sort of social setting. Though he was tired, he wasn’t looking forward to going home to an empty house for the umpteenth time. And that’s how he landed there at the Black Prince, settled in a small booth with a surprisingly comfortable chair, a nice cold glass in his hand. 

People watching was a bit of a guilty pleasure of his. It was a useful skill to have to immediately assess people, but it was also relaxing. He had his eye on three groups that night: the two girls enjoying themselves, clearly dressed up to be hit on (and as he watched for a few minutes, he could already see their plan working), the couple closer to his own age, laughing and smoking, and the group of two boys in their early twenties,  joking around together. A small smile formed on his lips as he looked down in his drink. Little snippets of life so far removed from his own.

He glanced up as the door opened, and did a bit of a double take. Another young man entered, dressed in loose fitting jeans and jacket, a snapback perched on his hair, and grin on his face as he saw his friends. Harry stared for a few seconds before returning his attention to his drink with slight embarrassment. He was a master of poker-face, and had no worry of anyone taking any notice of him staring at a twenty-something at his age, but still, he was somewhat abashed.

It only lasted a few seconds before he permitted himself another surreptitious look over the top of his glasses. The young man had settled himself facing Harry at the table with the two boys, and was settling himself down after some (to Harry,) odd hand gestures towards each other. The second look confirmed the first – he was incredibly handsome. Strong jaw, charming smile, green eyes he could see from here, all hiding underneath the street clothes that would normally turn Harry right off. He couldn’t help it, and kept looking at him as he lifted his glass to his lips, looking away only as the green eyes flickered over to him and they made eye contact.

Harry immediately looked away and swallowed, clearing his throat as he stared down at the wooden table. Mentally chastising himself, he looked back up, pretending to be exceedingly interested in one of the pictures on the walls as he promised himself he would not look over again. Plenty of other people to people-watch. He focused himself instead on the other two groups he had his eye on, but they seemed somehow paler now, less interesting. He finished his drink with a satisfied exhale and sat it down on the table, about to call all of this a sign and call it a night when he saw someone approach out of the corner of his eye.

The night-server smiled at him and sat down another drink in front of him. 

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I didn’t order this,” he frowned up at her.

“It’s covered,” she smiled again, folding her serving tray under her arm and heading back to the bar. 

He raised his eyebrows and sighed, looking down his nose at the drink as he gingerly held it in his fingertips. That was… odd. Not unheard of, of course, but he wasn’t feeling completely in the mood for thanking and entertaining some gentleman or gentlelady for very long that evening. But he couldn’t refuse. He lifted the drink to his lips and sipped.

The young man stood up, and he couldn’t help but looking over, embarrassed to find him looking directly at him. He cleared his throat again and did try to look elsewhere, but his eyes flickered over again as the man came closer. Harry’s grip on the glass tightened imperceptibly as he stopped at his table, standing beside him. 

Harry looked up at him with a tight smile. “I assume you are the one to whom I owe my thanks,” he asked rhetorically. 

The man nodded with a grin. “Thought it might put ya in a good mood. Got a favour to ask ya.” He sat himself down across from Harry, plopping down rather gracelessly. 

“… Please, have a seat,” Harry said with raised eyebrows, watching him but not protesting. He was even more handsome up close. Shit.

“Thanks,” he grinned, his head slightly tilted, a crooked grin firmly in place. “So don’t mean to be a bother or nothin’, but ‘m tryina make good on a bet.” 

His stomach tightened. A bet? A bet to hit on the old man sitting alone. Lovely. His smile dropped. “Charming,” Harry sighed, sipping his drink again.

The other seemed to have realized he offended him, and held up a hand. “No, no, sorry. I bet ‘em that I got more game than they do, so they challenged me t’get someone’s number.” He slid a napkin and a pen across the table to Harry.  
He looked down at it with one raised eyebrow, not moving, and looked back up to those beautifully green eyes. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do here. He could mean that he was a joke, or he could be using it as an excuse to ask for his phone number. Either way, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to give it to him.  
“… Why didn’t you select one of those lovely young women over there,” he said casually, lifting the hand with his drink to gesture over at them. 

The young man shrugged. “’s not as much fun ‘f it’s easy. Y’could give me a fake number, y’know,” he clarified, starting to stand up again. “… But I’d rather ‘f y’didn’t,” he added with a bigger grin.

Harry blinked at him, and looked down at the napkin. Even he didn’t know which one he was going to pick as his hand picked up the pen and started to write. This was the strangest circumstance anyone has ever used to ask for his phone number, but then again, it was also one of the first times he’d experienced this level of pull towards a stranger without work involved.

So it was his own number he wrote down, handing it over to the young man. “Harry,” he introduced himself, giving him the tight smile again.

“’m Eggsy.” He looked very pleased indeed as he took the number from him, and held it up to his friends at the table who simply laughed and grinned at him. Harry felt an odd combination of embarrassment and pleased with himself with how genuine the young man seemed in his gloating. 

“Well, _Eggsy_ ,” Harry sighed, nodding his head once. “Thank you for the drink. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he smiled a little less tightly, allowing it to reach his eyes.

Eggsy winked and nodded back. “You too, bruv.” He raised a hand in parting, and turned to rejoin his friends, immediately plopping down and bumping knuckles with them, visibly turning down their requests to see the napkin. Harry smiled to himself down at the glass, finishing his drink in one last gulp and grabbing his umbrella from beside his seat as he stood. He spared one last glance to Eggsy who happened to be looking over at him as well as he talked. Harry smiled lightly again to himself as he left the building, allowing himself too fee a bit of warmness as he made his way to his home.

Only a few hours passed before his phone went off. He looked up from his book, reaching to grab the phone from his bedside table.

‘hey  
its eggsy’

Harry looked at the text for several moments, picturing the young man from the bar. He smiled and added the number into his contacts.

‘Hello, Eggsy.’

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post. Find me there at thedarkbunnyrises.


End file.
